by Annie Murray
It had begun with something she’d said. Her idea. She had thought it a week or two ago, when she was walking along Victoria Road in Harborne, where Tommy’s school was, past the neat brick terraced houses lit by the morning sun.
It looks so nice, she thought. It’s even nicer than where Netta’s gone. I wish we lived in a house like that with its own garden, not on a yard. I bet they have their own bathrooms as well. And then the thought came to her, what seemed at first an unthinkable thing: why don’t we move and rent a house over here nearer to the school? It’s not as if they couldn’t afford it. The market made them a good living. And they had the car now to get to the market. Everyone said it was impossible to find anywhere to live these days but surely some people must be able to find a new house?
Of course she hardly dared mention it at first. Leave Alma Street? It still seemed almost unthinkable. And what about Auntie? She found herself longing to get away from Gladys – just to be in their own place. Would Gladys come with them? Surely not. Gladys had lived in the yard in Alma Street for more than two decades, with Mo and Dolly there, through good times and bad. They were almost family. Gladys was stubborn and it was hard to imagine she would ever leave Alma Street. But even moving with Gladys would be better than staying stuck where they were.
She pushed the reality of the acute housing shortage out of her mind. She just thought about her dream. And the more she thought about it, the more she had a tingle of excitement inside her. She argued it back and forth in her head all week.
Last night she had been about to broach the subject herself, when they went to bed. It was the only time they had any privacy. Though the council had finally installed electric light in the houses a few years back, there was still no light in the attic. She lay waiting for Danny, a candle burning on a saucer on the chair by the bed.
Danny’s shadow moved huge, on the wall. He pulled off his shirt and trousers in his fast, restless way, every line of him slender and strong, Rachel’s stomach knotted with nerves. She wanted Danny to agree with her, to long for what she longed for.
He thumped his way into bed so that the springs screeched.
‘For God’s sake,’ she hissed. ‘You’re like a flaming herd of elephants!’
Danny grinned and grabbed her, pulling her into his arms. ‘I’m the great big bull elephant, kid!’
‘Gerroff!’ She wriggled free, giggling. Normally she liked it when they were joking and teasing together but tonight she had too much on her mind. ‘Stop it, Danny – there’s something I want to say to you.’
He looked down at her, leaning on one elbow. He looked excited. ‘There’s summat I want to say to you, missis, an’ all.’
‘What?’ she said through a yawn. She hadn’t expected it to be anything much.
‘Let’s go to Australia.’
Rachel groaned, infuriated. Just as she had been about to say what she needed to say he had to put this stupid thing of his in the way.
‘What?’ Her anger came through clearly. ‘You’re not still on about that, Danny?’
‘Ten pound each – that’s all. On this ship, the SS Asturias.’ He made a movement with his hand, from side to side, a ship’s ocean glide. ‘The kids go free.’
She had seen the posters too, advertising this offer of a passage to the other side of the world. But that didn’t seem real either. She stared at him. He was joking, he must be? No . . . He wasn’t.
‘Are you mad?’ She sat up, annoyance rising in her at all this, at being thwarted in what she wanted to suggest. ‘What’re you saying? We can’t go to Australia. It’s . . . It’s the other side of the world. It’s . . .’ She could barely find the words. It was all so beyond her. ‘What about Gladys? And what about Tommy, for that matter? His operations and all the other things?’
‘Kids go free. Tommy could have what he has here . . . And the rest of us – think of it, Rach. There’s loads of jobs, open space, warm weather. I could trade there – there’s always that . . . I mean –’ He made an impatient gesture with his hand. ‘What’ve we got here? They kept saying everything’d be better after the war and look at it – still the same old bloody thing. Stuck in these jerry-built ratholes. I want more for us, Rach – I dain’t go all through the war to come back here and rot away.’
She saw, appalled, that he had been thinking, dreaming of it. But he hadn’t thought – not really.
‘Danny – no. No! Don’t be stupid – you’re not rotting away. You always say business is going well. And you’ve got the car. We don’t know if Tommy could go to school there, even if we got him over there. This is the only school in this country, never mind Australia.’
Danny shrugged. ‘Well, he could stop at home again. He’d be all right. He’s had a bit of schooling.’
She stared at him. She could have killed him for that shrug, those words. For the way he dismissed everything that was so precious to her, dismissed his son and his chance of a life, dismissed the prospect of anything but her being locked at home with Tommy again. It was a betrayal that felt like a physical blow. Was he hankering after Australia because he had once clung to the dream that his father had gone there? Longed for him to have made good and summoned his children to join him? That empty old dream?
‘But we can’t leave Gladys,’ she managed at last. If Danny didn’t care about Tommy, surely he’d mind about his aunt? ‘She’s lost everyone, Jess and Amy – then you . . .’
‘She could come too,’ Danny said breezily. ‘Why not? Fresh start in the sun.’
‘Oh, you’ve thought it all through, haven’t you?’ She pushed the bedclothes away as if wanting to escape from him. ‘Even if you don’t count Tommy as a person – because you never have, have you, Danny?’ Tears came suddenly, running down her cheeks. ‘What about Melly and the boys? What about asking the rest of us? Me, for a start? D’you think I want to go and live all the way over there, away from everyone I know?’
Danny stared at her. ‘Well, don’t you? It’s nice over there. You can make money – and have a much bigger house.’
Rachel seized his hand, speaking urgently. ‘Danny – I’ve been thinking. Don’t keep on about Australia – for God’s sake, just stop it. I’m not going to Australia and nor are our kids and that’s that. I’ve got a much better idea. Why don’t we move to Harborne? I know it’s difficult to get a house. We might have to wait. But if we look out – there might be a private landlord, and we could put our name on the list as well . . .’
‘Harborne?’ This idea seemed beyond Danny’s comprehension. ‘We can’t go to Harborne!’
Rachel sat back, laughing. ‘Why not? It’s not the other end of the earth, Danny – it’s just across town. I go there every week.’
‘Oh, we can’t do that,’ he said. ‘I mean, what about Auntie? She’d never leave here.’
‘Danny,’ she said, exasperated. ‘You’re on about going to the other side of the world but you won’t even think about moving just a few miles away. We can hardly swing a cat in this place. And anyway, the way things’re going, we’ll all have to move in the end. All these neighbourhoods – they’re taking it all down, bit by bit. Look what they’ve done in Ladywood. And those blocks they’ve put up over at Nechells Green – they’re knocking it flat and putting new roads and such in. We’ll be next. It’s in the plan – get rid of all the slum housing. We live in a slum, Danny – it says so in the paper.’
‘Yeah – well, like I say, let’s get out of here and go to Australia. If we’re all gonna be like rats from a sinking ship, we might as well get out early before it starts.’
Rachel thumped her fists down on the mattress. ‘You’re the end, Danny Booker! You go on about going to the ends of the earth – and then you think it’s too much to move a few miles across town! I’ve told you – I’m not going to cowing Australia.’
They never resolved it. Both of them fell asleep angry and Rachel woke still furious with him. She got up to get Tommy to school, ignoring Danny. Australia, indeed – wh
at did he think he was playing at? He’d better get that idea out of his head right quick.
‘You go then, if you’re that keen,’ she murmured, carrying on the conversation to herself as she leaned against the front wall of Carlson House. ‘But I’m not bloody going.’
‘Excuse me.’
She had been so lost in her thoughts that she had not seen a man walking up the road towards her.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to make you jump.’
‘That’s all right,’ Rachel said, putting out her cigarette against the wall. ‘I ought to be moving anyway.’
‘Is this –’ he eyed the building, and read, Midland Spastics Association – ‘another special school?’
Rachel could not have placed his age, but he had a mild, kindly face and short brown hair. His hands were pushed down into his coat pockets and he looked hunched and cold.
‘I don’t know about another,’ she said. ‘It’s for spastics – children with cerebral palsy. It’s the only one there is.’
‘Oh, I see. That’s good.’ Hesitantly, he asked, ‘Are you – I mean, do you have a child . . . ?’
‘My son.’ To her annoyance, Rachel felt herself blush. The fact of Tommy’s state, his difficulties, burned in her as guilt, no matter how many people said she should not think of it as her fault. There must have been something she did wrong. Looking over at the building, she said, ‘They’ve been ever so good with him. I don’t know how we got on without it now.’
‘I know. My little girl, Ellen, goes to the blind school. That’s why I was asking. I didn’t know about this place, even though I don’t live far off.’
They had a brief chat, agreed it was wonderful that there was help for children, and the man passed on. Rachel put him out of her mind then. She was far too busy feeling annoyed with Danny.
Eighteen
March 1955
‘I could go on ahead,’ Danny said.
They were having another heated conversation in the bedroom, even though it all had to be conducted in whispers.
‘What d’you mean, “ahead”? Without us?’
Rachel was sitting on the edge of the bed, throwing words over her shoulder at him. She felt so hurt and bereft that he was still even thinking about this. Danny, her Danny, came home from the war saying all he wanted was to be at home, with her. Never to have to go anywhere again. And now here he was, talking about taking off to the other side of the world. Was he trying to leave her? Is that what he really wanted? To go away like he did before – but this time not come back?
But even these fears could not change her mind. Even if Tommy had been like the others with no problems, she still would not have wanted to go. And now there was another reason why she couldn’t go, one that she hadn’t yet told Danny. For two days she had woken feeling unmistakeably queasy. Both times she had drunk a cup of tea to try and settle her stomach and had to hurry out to the lavvy to be sick. This morning, hanging over the stained, smelly lavatory pan, she vomited until she was empty, and tears began to trickle down her cheeks.
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Not again. I can’t do it all again. You sod, Danny Booker – you bloody sod.’
‘Just for a while.’ Danny kicked off his shoes and came and sat beside her. He spoke in a gentle, persuasive tone. He really wants this, she thought, sinking inside. ‘To get settled. ’Til I get a job. We could have so much more over there – a whole new life. Then you could come over with the kids.’
‘On my own. On a ship. With Tommy – and the others?’ She spoke harshly, her voice sarcastic in her hurt. ‘Oh, that’ll be bloody marvellous, Danny. And then when we get there, we don’t know a soul . . .’
‘You’d get to know people – you’re friendly, you are. People like you.’
‘And there won’t be a school for Tommy. For God’s sake, Danny – Carlson House is the only school in England. It might be the only school in the world for all I know. There’s not going to be one in Australia, is there?’
‘Well – you know all about it now. You could start one!’
He seemed full of confidence, of enthusiasm. She felt shut out. What had come over him?
‘I met this bloke in the Barton Arms – told me all about it.’
‘Oh – he’d done it, had he? So what was he doing in the Barton Arms if Australia’s so cowing perfect?’
‘No – but his pal has. Happy as anything over there, got a job in the motor trade, spraying cars.’ Danny was talking facing the window now, the dream of it all in his voice. ‘Made a good bit of money in no time. And he said it’s ever so nice over there. Warm and sunny. You can go to the beach – beaches like you wouldn’t believe. Christmas is one of the hottest days over there. Imagine it – Christmas on the beach!’
For a moment it sounded attractive: a whole new life. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? But no. She couldn’t. Not like that. She felt sorry for not being able to climb on board and ride on his dream but she just couldn’t. And she felt so sick and exhausted; she couldn’t cope with much more anyway. She would tell him about the baby, but she wanted to be sure he knew this was not the main reason for her refusal to go.
‘Danny.’ She spoke softly, but with iron certainty. ‘I’m not going to Australia. I know you wish your dad had gone – that he was going to send for you and there’d be this perfect new life over there. But he never did, did he? That was your dream, not his. He never went anywhere and he’s most likely dead by now – a drunk in that hostel or workhouse or whatever it is.’
Swallowing down the tears that were rising in her, she went on, ‘You go, if that’s what you want. I love you, Danny, but I can’t do that, not even for you. Things’ve got so much better – for me and for Tommy, after all this time. I thought I’d spend my whole life stuck here with him and there’d be nothing for him, ever. There’ve been times when I’ve sat here, between these four walls, and it’s felt like a prison.’ She wiped her eyes, feeling her chest tighten around a well of tears. ‘I’ve tried not to show it, tried not to let it get me down – but that’s how I’ve felt. And you haven’t had to do that – none of it. There’s a chance now – a little chance of something different. And there’s Auntie and friends – everything that matters to me is here.’
She looked into his eyes with intent seriousness. ‘If you go, we won’t be coming with you. We won’t be coming over after to join you. If you go, you’re leaving me and our marriage. You need to know that.’
She watched Danny take this in. He got up slowly, walked round to the other side of the bed and sat, leaning on his thighs, head down. He didn’t say anything.
‘Danny?’ There was no reply, so she went on. ‘We’re . . . There’s another one on the way. Another babby. I’ve been being sick.’
He turned then. He liked her having babies. Danny craved family.
‘Oh, Rach!’ His face lit up. ‘But that’s all the more reason to go! Over there we can have a nice big house and—’
‘Danny!’ She got to her feet and came round to speak right into his face. ‘Listen to me. Just hear what I’m saying, cloth ears. I’m not going!’
A couple of days later, Rachel was at home trying to get the washing finished with Kevin running about under her feet. Finally he shot out the door to play outside.
‘Don’t you go anywhere near the cut!’ Rachel shouted after him.
It was a habitual warning, now the weather was warm. It was dangerous enough, kids swimming in the canal, at the best of times. Now, any body of water was a potential killer, harbouring polio. A boy up the street died of it. Everyone knew a child in leg irons as a result. And Kevin was just the sort to go and jump in anywhere the fancy took him, even if he couldn’t swim!
‘Yeah, awright –’ Kevin tossed her a backward shout. He had heard this so many times before.
Rachel shook her head as he vanished into the yard. ‘What’m I going to do with him?’
Kev was only six and she already felt rather awed by him – he was so brig
ht and energetic. Sometimes she looked at Kev and wondered what Danny would have been like if his life had not been so hard, his dad dumping him in the home, the poor life they had had before. Her Danny was a restless soul. A sense of anguish filled her. Was she now what was stopping him from fulfilling himself, using all that energy?
‘Right –’ Gladys said, folding her arms once they were alone. ‘What’s going on?’
Rachel had had the feeling Gladys was working up to a confrontation. She and Danny could hardly say a civil word to each other.
There was no getting out of it. Gladys was in her usual vantage point at the table, a pinner over a pale green, spotted frock, her arms folded. Usually she sat watching the goings-on in the yard – but today her attention was fixed on events indoors.
Gladys was sixty now, still an impressive-looking woman with vital, big-boned features. Even at nearly thirty herself, Rachel still felt like a child in relation to Gladys, who had been like a mother to her. You didn’t argue with her, however much you might want to, and now there was a look on her face that gave no room for evasion.
‘How d’you mean, “going on”?’ Rachel said, though she knew exactly. Neither she nor Danny would back down. And she wasn’t sure if Gladys had noticed her hurrying out to be sick. Gladys never missed much. She would have to confess that her house was soon going to have to take in yet another person.
‘What’s the vow of silence all about? It’s like living in a flaming monastery in this house, with you two.’
There was silence for a moment. Rachel folded her arms and leaned against the stove where the kettle was heating, emotion swelling in her.
‘It’s Danny.’ Tears escaped and she wiped her cheeks. Gladys was not greatly in favour of blarting, unless something truly terrible had happened, as in Dolly’s case. ‘I’m having another babby. And he wants to go to Australia.’
It was not often in her life that Rachel had seen Gladys startled, but this was one of the few times. Her expression changed from tetchiness to astonishment. She felt very grateful to Gladys in that moment.
